Who's Afraid?
by foxfire79
Summary: (Pre-Snow taking Rose to the Farm) Bigby has a prophetic nightmare about Snow's death, and rushes to see if she's alright. He's always known that Snow is the only woman for him, but has she finally realised that Bigby is the right man for her? Corrected minor spelling errors 01/06/15.


Who's Afraid? - A Fables Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Bigby Wolf/Snow White)

I am in no way affiliated with the awesome people who put the 'Fables' universe together. If I was, I would certainly have a better computer to rap these stories out on, and I'd also be making the big bucks. I am not. *sigh*

Bigby Wolf shot out of bed with a grunt, nostrils flaring and eyes wild, as he tried to remember the vision that had startled him awake so violently. There had been a sword fight, and he'd been there, though as participant or spectator he couldn't recall. There had been blood, so much blood, but once again he couldn't tell if it was all his or only partially. Hell, maybe it was all the other guy's blood and he'd gotten off scot-free. He recalled Boy Blue and King Cole being there, being held back from running towards him by Grimble and Beast in their less-than-human forms. Rose Red had been there, for some reason surrounded by a small herd of children who all looked vaguely familiar, all of whom were also trying to run into the field where he stood. The only person he hadn't seen yet was Snow. Then he'd heard the faint sigh behind him, and a feeble voice call out his name.

"Bigby... It's al... alright... I'm... alright..."

He'd dreaded turning around for fear of what he may see, and he'd almost fallen to his knees when he saw what, no who, lay behind him. Snow White was lying awkwardly on the rough stone cobbles before him, her life's blood pouring out of the gaping wound in her chest. She was lying awkwardly because the large sword which had run her through was still protruding through her chest wedging her into a half lying, half sitting stance. It must have hurt like hell, but dammit the woman was barely making a sound of protest. He'd stumbled toward her and fallen to his knees, cradling her head in his lap. She'd looked up at him, and reached up, pushing his messy brown hair back behind his ear, grimacing with pain.

"Snow... What happened?"

She blinked up at him, smiled softly, and covered his hands with hers to stop them fluttering.

"We knew... this would happen... eventually..."

He couldn't sit still, but Snow's hands on his kept those still at least. He'd glanced Ozma in the crowd, one of the witches from the thirteenth floor, and looked at her pointedly.

"Why aren't you doing anything! Help her!"

Ozma had glared defiantly back at him, but even from this distance he could see the tracks of tears running down her cheeks.

"We've been helping her for months! We don't have any power left! The best thing for you to do right now is say your goodbyes and step away..."

Pinocchio put his arm around Ozma and led her away, throwing a sad look back at Bigby. He'd looked down once more at the dying woman in his arms. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was incredibly shallow. He'd seen men like this during the wars he'd fought in, struggling bravely to hang onto life if only for a few more moments to pass on messages to their loved ones. Who did Snow have to leave any last messages to? Definitely not Prince Charming.

"Snow..."

He called her softly and her eyes opened again, and the look that she gave him answered his question. She was hanging on for HIM. She reached up and pulled his face down to hers, pressing her mouth against his in the sweetest kiss he'd ever known, hell, the only kiss he'd ever known. He'd have loved to have deepened that kiss, then Snow had gasped and pulled away, her breathing quickening. Her end was nearing. Her hands grasped his, and she looked deeply into his eyes.

"Bigby... Love... You..."

He said the only possible thing that made sense in his mind.

"I've always loved you, Snow. I always will. You're the only one for me. Don't go..."

A smile appeared, then disappeared almost as quickly, on her lips as she reached up and touched his hair again, then wiped something from his cheek. Was he crying? He must have been, as her finger came away moist.

"Don't think... Much choice..."

He sat behind her, gathering her into his arms properly so he could at least hold her in her last moments, the sword protruding through his armpit. Nothing would stop him from holding her.

"How did this happen, Snow?"

Her head fell into the hollow of his neck as she rested momentarily before answering.

"Brandish... Magic... Curses... The usual..."

She opened her hand and a small round object fell from it. A ring with a small piece of crystal rolled to a stop against his leg. He picked it up, and the small crystal shard melted at his touch, seeming to flow into his skin Snow managed a small smile at this.

"At least... I got... Your soul back..."

She went limp in his arms, and his first reaction was to gently shake her awake. She was still breathing, after all.

"Snow, come back..."

She stretched her neck, then moaned in pain, coming back to reality.

"Bigby... I think... I'm dying..."

There was no reason to sugarcoat it at this point. Most of her blood was on the ground, and on Bigby's pants and hands.

"Yes, love, I think so too. I think maybe I should kill myself just to even the playing field, then I can meet up with you in heaven. What do you say, Princess? A date amongst the stars."

Snow sighed and relaxed against him.

"Don't be daft... Think of the... cubs..."

At that moment, the four howling miscreants had managed to escape from their Aunt and were making their way haphazardly towards Snow and Bigby in various stages of shape-shifting. They crowded around the couple, but stayed far away enough so as not to get bloodied themselves. Bigby breathed in through his nose deeply, and realised that the children surrounding them really did have the scent of a human/wolf union. Looking closely at their faces he could see a clear mix of his and her finer features amongst them. Good god, he and Snow White had kids together! They'd clearly moved beyond kissing about seven years ago, judging from the age of the little ones. They were all looking at him with more than a little fear and mistrust. Then the chubby one pointed a finger at him.

"Why did you hurt Mommy, Daddy?"

Bigby's mouth gaped open, as he finally took in the rest of his surroundings. There was a dead blonde woman lying on the ground near them, her right hand severed. Clearly, this was the woman who had had the ring Snow had dropped a few moments ago, as her hand was lying beside Snow on the bloodied cobbles. He didn't recognise her, but her face was mostly obscured by blood as her throat had been slashed open. He spotted the Vorpal blade lying among the pools of blood on the ground, and he figured this must have been Snow's weapon of choice as it was her favourite. Then he realised... If the woman had been right handed and Snow had lopped off her right hand, someone else would have had to have stabbed Snow through the heart with that blade. Someone tall and strong, from the angle of the sword. The blonde never could have managed it. Then the accusation from the kid...

"Oh god, Snow... I can't remember... I... Did I...?"

She reached up behind her, and slid a hand down his face.

"Shhh... Don't fret... Sweetheart... You weren't yourself..."

He closed his eyes, looking away from the accusing stares of everyone around him. The four children were the most heartbreaking of all, tears pouring down their faces, but unable to step forward for fear of what he may do to them as well.

"I forgive you... My Big Bad Wolf..."

Then with that, she'd died. And he'd awoken.

He rubbed his hands down his face, then scratched his head. He never had dreams. It wasn't that he didn't have dreams that he could remember, or he didn't have dreams regularly. He NEVER had dreams. This had been extremely vivid, and featured people that he knew. Usually his evenings thoughts only featured one certain human, and those certainly weren't dreams, they were fantasies and he always only acted on them alone. Sure he'd worked with Snow White, hell, he'd worked side-by-side with her for the past four hundred years or so, but he'd never dreamed of killing her before. Or of having cubs with her, though to tell you the truth that idea sort of appealed to him. The creation of the cubs, anyway. He had a sudden urge to call Snow, just to check in and make sure she was alright. He dug under his pillow, searching for his cell phone, and scrolled through his contacts until he found her name, then hit call. It rang through to her voicemail. He frowned, hung up, and re-dialed. Three times. After the third call through to her voicemail, he was convinced that something was wrong.

He pulled a pair of grey cotton pyjama pants up over his boxer shorts and tied them loosely at his waist, then yanked a black singlet over his head. He left his feet bare, as he knew he would have to sneak past Colin pig who was once again crashed out on his couch after sneaking into the big city for an adventure. He'd be heading back to the farm on the next transport out, but would invariably end up sneaking out again. Adventuring seemed to be in his nature, as much as pining for Snow seemed to be part of Bigby's. As a second thought, he tucked his Glock in the waistband of his pants and pulled his singlet over the top to conceal it, just in case Snow was in trouble. He tiptoed to his front door, silent as a ghost and sneaked out into the corridor of the Woodland Apartments building.

He eyed the elevator suspiciously before turning to the staircase and starting his winding trip up to Snow White's apartment. It's not that that elevator wouldn't have gotten him there more quickly, it was just that he didn't particularly enjoy small, enclosed spaces like that. Also, technology was never Bigby's friend. He most likely would have ended up trapped in the elevator for god knows how long while Snow was being murdered in her sleep. He ran up the stairs three at a time until he reached her floor, then tapped softly on her door. The door was closed, and locked, which he guessed was a good sign. No sign of forced entry, at least.

"Ms White... Snow...?"

He knocked a little louder the second time, but still didn't raise his voice. He could hear movement within the apartment now, sheets sliding down a bed and feet hitting the floor, shuffling closer to the door where he stood.

"Who's it?"

Snow sounded half-asleep, as she struggled with her keys and door-chain to open the door. Bigby shuffled from foot to foot as he waited impatiently to check her over.

"It's Bigby, Snow. Let me in already, it's an emergency."

She finally managed to pull the door open, and he breathed a massive sigh of relief when he saw her standing before him with no terrible gaping wounds or visible swords poking out of her. He pulled her into his arms, cradling her head in one of his large hands.

"Oh, thank god, Snow, you're alive. Are you alright? Nothing's happened to you, has it?"

He suddenly realised just how stiffly the woman in his arms was holding herself, and he stepped back, grasping her forearms instead. He appraised her face, noticing the confusion in her eyes, the messiness of her usually smooth black hair, and the blush that was rapidly travelling from her cheeks down to her barely covered chest... Good lord, she was in her pyjamas, and there wasn't much to the skimpy blue singlet top she was wearing. The three quarter pants in faded grey at least covered her legs somewhat, but his gaze was drawn back to her considerable cleavage, and that pretty blush that was now staining her. Snow cleared her throat, and his eyes met hers again. She folded her arms, and looked up at him, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Is there a reason you're knocking at my door at two in the morning Bigby, or should I just chalk this up to bad judgement so we can both go back to sleep?"

Bigby breathed in, checking the scents within her home to make sure no intruders were hiding, waiting to jump out and murder them, then pulled the Glock out from his waistband and motioned for Snow to get behind him. Her eyes widened and she acquiesced, unconsciously grabbing a handful of his singlet so as not to be separated from him. He padded past the kitchen and bathroom, heading straight to her bedroom. He sniffed again, then entered the wardrobe, noticing an access panel in the ceiling.

"I suggest you come out, before I start shooting."

A rather unmanly squeak could be heard floating down through the now opened access panel, and Snow's hand tightened on his shirt. A pair of lanky, jeans-clad legs appeared, followed by a faded red hoodie as the figure dropped to the floor. Bigby unceremoniously yanked the hood down around the neck of the lurking miscreant to reveal Jack Horner, looking rather sorry for himself. Snow crossed her arms again and eyed him off, accusingly.

"Why the hell are you hiding in the roof of my house, Jack?"

Jack, who's gaze had also traveled to Snow's cleavage, received a sharp slap in the back of the head from one Bigby Wolf, when he didn't reply to Snow's question. He threw an angry look at Bigby and rubbed the back of his head.

"Ow, dammit! What is wrong with you?"

Bigby shrugged, and looked away, nonchalant. Jack sighed, and looked back at Snow.

"Snow, listen, you gotta see my reasoning behind this. I love Red, you can't send her to the Farm. What'll I do with myself?"

Snow uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on her hips, nonplussed.

"Seriously? 'What'll I do with myself?' is the best you can come up with. I'm sending your meal ticket to the farm is what I'm hearing. Where will poor Jack sleep? What will he eat? Who will he scam his next ten thousand dollars from?"

Each sentence was exacerbated with a sharp poke to his chest, which elicited a wince from Jack every time.

"Snow, come on, she was a willing participant. That business idea was foolproof!"

Snow re-crossed her arms, which only accentuated her bust more. Both men's eyes traveled immediately there, but Bigby's hand once again lashed out and whacked Jack soundly in the head. Snow, completely livid, didn't even notice.

"You made my sister get engaged to one of the most dangerous serial killers that Fabletown has ever known so that you could get some venture capital to start an internet scam! That is not a foolproof business plan! That's not a business plan at all!"

Jack smirked, and raised his finger to make a point.

"He was a serial killer pre-amnesty, Snow. As far as we knew, he was new-leaf-boy, as in turned over one. Just like your big, scary bodyguard here. Nice PJ's, by the way."

Jack reached over and yanked Bigby's singlet, and Bigby's eyes started glowing gold. His lip rode up from his teeth and a low growl began to form in his throat.

"Touch me again, and you'll see how much I haven't changed Jack."

Jack let the singlet go, and stepped back, palms out-held in surrender.

"Settle, petal, no harm done. We're all friends here, right?"

Snow stared at him, incredulous.

"Friends don't stalk about hiding in people's roof's waiting to molest them!"

Jack's gaze flicked from Bigby to Snow, and he licked his lips nervously.

"Molesting you was the furthest thing from my mind, princess, but now I'm looking at you in that sexy ensemble..."

Jack never finished that sentence as Snow rushed forward and slapped him in the face, hard enough to rock him backwards. Bigby stepped forward, glowering at Jack, his eyes flickering yellow once more.

"The lady wants to know why you were hiding in her crawlspace, Jack. We can do this the easy way, or my way. You won't like my way."

Jack backed away, his left hand rubbing his reddening cheek.

"Ease off, Bigby, Jeez! I'll cooperate, alright? So, the reason I was in the ceiling... It's kind of a funny story, really..."

Snow re-crossed her arms and leaned on one leg. Bigby tried not to stare at her, but dammit his eyes were just constantly drawn to those luscious curves... He forced himself to look away. He was here on official business after all. Snow grimaced, then took a deep breath before addressing Jack again.

"I didn't ask you for a funny story Jack. I just want to know why you're skulking about my apartment."

Jack sighed, rubbing a hand over his hair.

"Fine. I figured seeing as you were the one that sentenced Red to go to The Farm, and in so doing took away the only home I have at the moment... You owed me one."

Snow shook her head in disbelief.

"I owed you one? Are you insane?!"

Jack moved closer to her, grasping her hands in his. Bigby's nostrils flared, but he didn't advance on the man. He wanted to see this train wreck through to the end.

"Come on, Snow, we're practically family! I've been dating Red on and off for years, that's gotta count for something, right?"

Snow narrowed her eyes.

"You. In my ceiling. Why?"

Jack's eyes flitted between Bigby and Snow. He was finally starting to look nervous.

"You're hardly ever here! It's not like you'd miss a few slices of bread and deli meat every day! A couple of teaspoons of coffee! I was just planning on sleeping in the crawl space, coming out after you'd left for work, using the facilities, then going about my day. Then I'd sneak back in at the end of the day, and you'd be none the wiser. Everybody wins!"

Snow's mouth had fallen open in shock. Bigby snorted, still glaring at him.

"You are such an idiot."

Snow seemed to be searching for the most appropriate phrasing to give Jack what-for.

"How could you possibly think this is a win for anyone?! I lose because there's a creepy vagrant secretly living in my house, and you! Have you no shame, Jack? How long did you think you could get away with this ridiculous plan?! You're not exactly the quietest person in the world, I'm certain you would have let slip to someone that you were 'crashing' at my house. I could have you arrested for this, you know!"

Both Bigby and Jack stared at her.

"You're not arresting him?"

"You're not arresting me?"

Snow drew her hands out of Jack's and moved out of his reach, standing closer to Bigby.

"I don't need to have you arrested, Jack. You're pathetic enough."

Bigby nodded in Jack's direction, his eyes finally returning to their natural brown.

"You're a lucky man, Jack. People have been thrown down the Witching Well for less in the past. Count your blessings."

Snow folded her arms once more, and Bigby cursed himself for being a weak man. That cleavage though... Damn.

"Get out of my house Jack. I don't even want to know how you got in here in the first place, just get out. Rose is going to do her community service at the Farm, you are going to do yours here in town, end of story."

Bigby grasped Jack by the back of his neck and led him through the apartment to the front door, where he unceremoniously threw him out into the corridor. Jack looked up at him from the floor, eyes pleading.

"Come on, Bigby, be reasonable. I love Red, I'm not in my right mind, cut me some slack!"

Bigby loomed over him, hands grasping the door lintel, eyes glowing yellow once more.

"This is me, cutting you some slack. If I'd had my way, I'd have ripped your throat out before you'd made it out of the crawlspace. If Snow wants you released, I'll release you. Your community service starts tomorrow. See you there. Don't be late."

Bigby closed the door softly but firmly, then leaned against it, resting his forehead against the cool hardwood. What a night... He heard a soft cough behind him, and turned to find Snow gazing at him, holding the Glock in her hands. She handed it over as if she couldn't let go of it fast enough.

"I believe this is yours, Mr Wolf."

His eyes narrowed when he realised she was back to using his surname, and he took the gun from her and tucked it back into his waistband. Only a few minutes earlier she had been clutching his shirt in terror. He sighed inwardly, and realised he should be leaving.

"Thanks, Ms White. Sorry for interrupting your evening."

He turned to go, but then felt her hand resting on his arm. He looked up, and saw that questioning look in her eyes again.

"Bigby, wait... Why did you come up here? You never answered my question."

In truth, the dream really didn't seem to be that big of a deal any more. The memory was already growing fuzzy in Bigby's mind, as his adrenaline had kicked in and he had partially shifted twice to get his point across to Jack. After a shift everything prior seemed to be less important. Still, she had asked.

"I had a dream that you were in trouble, that you were... dying. I tried to call you, but you didn't answer your phone..."

Snow sighed, and ran a hand over her eyes.

"It's two in the bloody morning, Bigby. The only two reasons people call at that time of the night is drunk-dialing or..."

She trailed off, the blush reappearing on her cheeks, and Bigby suddenly desperately wanted to know what the second reason was.

"Or...?"

Snow looked away, biting her lip, and Bigby realised just how much he wanted to kiss her. He wanted that lip between his teeth, he wanted to see how she tasted, and if she'd respond favourably towards his touch. God, he just wanted her. He breathed in, and could smell her, the clean soap scent of her skin, the perfume of her hair, but underneath all of it he could smell her desire for him. She could hide behind that icy exterior all she wanted, but his wolfen senses could tell that beneath all of her sarcasm and barbs she wanted him just as badly. He wondered if she thought about him as much as he thought about her, if her fantasies were the equal of his, if she sometimes woke in a sweat calling out his name as often he did hers. He could hear her heartbeat beginning to accelerate, even from this distance, and he saw her throat contract as she swallowed, nervously. She was starting to panic, so he decided to end the stand-off.

"No, Snow, I wasn't drunk-dialing you. And I sure as hell wasn't calling you up for quick, dirty sex. That's not my style."

She was still looking away from him, but her could see a smile playing at her lips after he said that.

"I was... concerned. For your safety. So I ran upstairs to check on you, and that's when I smelled a Jack-sized rat."

He suddenly realised that she was still holding his arm, and didn't seem to be making any moves to let him go. He looked down at her and noticed that she was looking at, no, studying his face, as he spoke. The blush still lingered on her cheeks, and he refused to let his gaze travel any lower. If he was to win the heart of this maiden fair, he'd have to start being more gentlemanly. She reached up and tucked a few strands of his hair back behind his ear, and his thoughts flew back to the dream where she had done the exact same thing to him. She smiled softly as she stroked his hair, then lowered her hand to his other arm.

"You were afraid I'd been hurt because of your dream. That's... very sweet of you. Thank you for coming to check on me."

She stepped forward and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his back, her fingers exploring his muscles through the thin fabric of his singlet. He could hear her heart rate increasing again, and this time it wasn't due to nervousness. He raised one hand to run his fingers through her hair, and wrapped the other arm gently around her waist.

"I wasn't afraid. I'm never afraid. I said I was concerned. I wouldn't want to have to train someone new on how to deal with me and my idiosyncrasies in the workplace."

Snow giggled at this, and buried her face in his chest.

"Oh, my poor replacement! Well, I'll just have to keep working with you then, won't I?"

Bigby knew she wouldn't be able to see his face, but he was grinning like a loon.

"I have no problem with that, Ms White. As long as you're fine with it, of course. I mean, I did kind-of ask you out after that big, fancy Fabletown get-together last week, and you blew me out of the water."

Snow raised her head and looked up at him, finally stepping back from the hug, but still keeping her hands on his forearms.

"I have a lot of trust issues, Bigby. Mostly because the last person I had a serious relationship with turned out to be an ignoble ass-hat. You, however, are proving yourself otherwise."

Bigby looked down at her in faux shock.

"Prince Charming, an ignoble ass-hat?! Such language."

Snow smiled, then looked away, still not making a move to release him.

"I, uh... I guess you'll be going now, seeing as I'm in no foreseeable danger..."

Bigby noticed a crease forming in her forehead. Did she not want him to go? He knew that if he stayed, he most likely wouldn't be able to control himself, and he'd end up crawling into her bed. She'd most likely allow it, judging from her scent, and it would certainly be a magnificent evening, but what would happen afterwards? They hadn't cultivated any kind of relationship besides working and a little occasional flirting. This would likely turn into a one night stand followed by centuries of awkwardness. No, he decided, he would be a gentleman and leave. Another faint memory of his dream drifted back, of the four children who bore resemblance to both he and Snow, and the one who'd called him his daddy. Would a single night with Snow result in them having cubs? He doubted he was that virile. He sighed, looked down at her, and tried not to focus too closely on her luscious mouth.

"Unless there's anything else you need, Ms White?"

Her eyes widened, and she blushed again, but continued to maintain eye contact.

"What about your reward for saving the princess? I mean, all the stories where princesses are rescued the hero gets some sort of reward. Right?"

Bigby looked down at her, a single eyebrow raised in question.

"The heroes in all those stories are princes, Snow. I ain't a prince. And all I rescued you from was an extremely embarrassing conversation with your sister's ex-boyfriend, not a dragon or certain death. You realise that most of the rewards for the heroes in those stories is marriage to the princess in question, right? Are you saying you want to marry me?"

Snow looked up at him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Let's just start with a kiss and see where that leads us..."

Bigby froze as Snow leaned up and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek, close enough to the corner of his mouth that he could feel her breath across his lips. If he moved his face a few millimetres to the right he could easily capture her lips with his own and deepen this kiss into the one he fantasized about every night. He didn't though. He kept his hands on her waist, even though hers had traveled from his forearms to his back again, teasing his muscles with their feather-like touch. He was the one that moved away first, his dark gaze burning into her own, promising future kisses and touches but not right now. He was the one that walked to the door, opening it to check whether Jack had disappeared yet (he had, thank goodness). She moved to the door and caught his elbow just as he was stepping through, and he stopped.

"See you at work tomorrow, Princess."

Snow shook her head, and Bigby remembered. Jack and Rose were both starting their community service tomorrow, which meant Snow was going to be heading to the Farm for a few days. Which also meant he'd somehow have to get Colin to the truck for his ride back as well. He sighed, and rubbed his forehead.

"When I get back from the Farm, we need to have a conversation about this... about us. I think the sooner, the better."

Bigby nodded, and gulped. The hungry look in her eyes as she peered up at him made him weak in the knees. The scent of her desire was even stronger than before, and he knew that it had been as much of an effort for her to keep that kiss chaste as it had been for him. Before he could revert to his big bad ways he nodded again and answered her, his voice slightly husky with his growing need for her.

"I couldn't agree more, Ms White. The sooner, the better it is."

With that, he slipped into the corridor and loped off down the stairs before she could conjure up any other reasons to get him to stay. Lord, she made it hard for him to be good sometimes. He made it back to his apartment, which was tiny in comparison to hers, and remembered Colin sleeping on the couch just as he was about to slump onto it himself. He changed direction and headed to his bedroom instead, falling exhausted onto the mattress.

Frankly, he was surprised he'd gotten any sleep, but when he had awoken to sunlight and the smell of eggs frying in the kitchen, he was pleasantly surprised at how refreshed he felt. Colin was making toast to go with the eggs when he wandered in, still wearing his pyjamas from the previous night's adventures. Colin looked up from the frying pan, and gave him an appraising look.

"Bigby, since when do you wear PJ's?"

Bigby yawned, and sat in one of the kitchen chairs.

"Since I had to go and rescue Snow White from a home invader at two o'clock this morning. Is there any bacon?"

Colin threw him the most disparaging look a pig could muster, and went back to frying the eggs.

When breakfast finished, and despite Colin's attempts to cajole Bigby into letting him remain in the city, they wandered downstairs to where the truck would be brought for Snow to drive Colin and Rose Red to the Farm. Snow was already waiting downstairs with Rose, and she gave him a slight wave as he arrived. He couldn't help it when his lips twitched into a small smile that echoed the smile she was wearing. He'd had another flashback to the dream that morning, when he'd asked her how she'd come to be lying out there and she'd mumbled a name he'd never heard before. Perhaps it had been a nonsensical part of his sleep, but then again... If that dream had indeed been a prophetic dream, then perhaps it was important. It was his job as the Fabletown Sheriff to investigate all the leads he came across, after all. He decided to approach her and ask.

"Mornin' Snow."

He tapped a cigarette out of his almost empty carton and lit up, trying to drown out the fresh scent of her. Snow rolled her eyes, but she couldn't tell him not to smoke in a public area. From the scent of a fresh wave of desire rolling from her, it appeared that she quite enjoyed the way he looked while smoking, anyway. Maybe that was why she kept telling him to stop, because it made it harder to control her own feelings. Well, damn. He decided to ask her about the mystery name from his dream anyway.

"Listen, Snow... Do you know anyone by the name of Brandish? I recalled his name from my dream last night, thought it might mean something..."

His eyes narrowed as Snow and Rose looked at each other, then both looked away, sharply. Snow grabbed his arm and moved him away from Rose so they could speak privately.

"Brandish... He was part of Rose's and my story. A prince that was cursed. We, well, I rescued him, and as you said last night the heroes' prize is usually marriage... but our story didn't end like that. It's complicated, but as far as I know Brandish never made it out of the Homeland. For all I know he's dead. End of story."

Bigby drew in a breath and blew out a cloud of smoke, then realised that Snow's gaze had fallen to his lips. She was clearly still thinking about 'the kiss that could have been' last night, and all the possibilities that arose from that. And yet here she was, heading to the Farm for a week to get her sister settled in. Life was certainly strange. Just then, the old truck that passed as transport to the Farm appeared at the end of Bullfinch street, driven along by Flycatcher. He jumped out of the driver's seat, mumbling something about not overheating the engine, then headed off to meet Boy Blue and Pinocchio. Snow fingered the keys as Red hopped in the cab, looking sullen. Colin also looked sullen as he was bodily hefted into the tray of the truck by Grimble. She looked up at Bigby, then back at the truck, then back to Bigby.

"I have a strange feeling about this trip to the farm, Bigby. I feel... unsettled. Not just because of this... whatever this is, between us. If you don't hear from me in a couple of days, I need you to come out and see what's happening."

Bigby frowned, and dropped his cigarette butt on the ground, stamping it out with his heel.

"I'm not allowed to set foot on the farm, Snow, remember?"

She grasped his arm, making him look down at her as she stepped into the cab of the truck. The earnest look on her face didn't take away from the fact that he wanted to lay her flat across the truck seat and take her right here and now. He sighed and got himself back under control. He placed a hand over hers and looked back into her eyes, hoping his own didn't betray his feelings.

"I'll send a crack team of individuals to your defense, Snow. I'll even handpick them so you know they're the best."

Snow smiled, and placed a hand over her heart.

"I know you're making fun of me, but somehow that still makes me feel better. See you in a week!"

The truck lurched to life, and trundled off down the road, taking Snow away from him. He'd waited over four hundred years to confess his feelings for her. What was another week? - The End

So, what was I thinking when I wrote this? Well, I guess it would just be really awful if Bigby was the one who eventually stabs Snow through the heart under orders from Mrs Spratt (she'll always be Mrs Spratt to me) seeing as she has that little piece of him carved into her ring. Then I was thinking, Ooh, what if he actually dreamed about it before he'd even gotten together with Snow. That would be creepy as all get out. Then I just wanted them to kiss and junk. That's about it... I'm also working on a few other Snow and Bigby short stories, like this one, so be on the lookout for those. As for this story, read, review and enjoy!

Foxfire out!


End file.
